


The freedom to choose

by YvonneSilver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, POV Sam Winchester, dealing with unreality, let Sam make his own choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonneSilver/pseuds/YvonneSilver
Summary: Sam has had more than enough experience with hallucinations and unrealities. Toni's serum is only the latest. So when somehow, inexplicably, his dead brother, an angel, and the mother he never knew show up to rescue him, he's certain this is yet another trick to make him talk.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	The freedom to choose

Sam watches in a daze as Toni crosses the room to her companion’s side. He keeps waiting for the hallucination to crack, for Cas to turn into the brunette with the blowtorch, for Dean’s warm presence at his side to evaporate, for the scraping at his wrists to return as he finds himself suddenly back in chains. He keeps waiting for Toni to wake him up with a triumphant grin on her face, because she got him to fall for her tricks again. Yet against all odds, she keeps walking away from him, and reality holds.

Mick takes her by the arm, squeezing, controlling, and it's only then that Sam begins to realize this might be real. She would never dream up a world where she wasn't in charge. Faintly, very faintly, Sam begins to hope. As Mick turns to lead Toni out of the basement, she throws a last glance over her shoulder. The look isn’t triumphant. It’s murderous. The kernel of truth begins to grow, and Sam stares back in wonder, too dumbfounded to even feel threatened by her anger. She's leaving. And if she's leaving, this might be real. Dean might be real. He might survive this.

He counts the stairs she takes out of the room. There are twelve. Her heels make a hollow sound as she ascends them. With each beat, he expects them to turn around and rescind the olive branch. He’s seen what their peace looks like, and it’s not this. It’s lies and tricks and brain-liquefying substances. His breathing is shallow as he tries to hold in enough air for when they cast their choking spell on him.

But they reach the top step without incident, and the doors flap open, and a few seconds later, they disappear from sight.

With a whimper, Sam collapses to the floor, falling heavily against Dean.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Dean’s gruff voice, too loud but so very gratifying to hear. Dean’s rough hands as he tries to hold him upright. “Castiel!” Dean bellows, but the angel is already at their side. He reaches out to heal him.

“No!” Sam throws out his hand, clumsily slapping Cas’ hand aside. “Not yet.”

Cas freezes for a moment, then he slowly withdraws his hand. He casts a worried glance at Dean.

“What? What do you mean not yet?” Dean demands.

“Sam, it’s me. Lucifer is gone,” Cas says softly, trying to be understanding. “I promise I mean you no harm.”

“’s not the point,” Sam slurs. He sits up laboriously, ignoring both their worried looks. If all of this is part of a hallucination, he’s not going to give in to it. He’s not going to let them heal him only so he can endure more torture.

“He’s delirious,” Dean says, talking over Sam’s head. “You’ve got to help him.”

This time Sam’s more focused, and he grabs Cas firmly by the wrist. “I said,” he hisses through gritted teeth, “Not. Yet.” He shoves the hand away, and begins to painstakingly pull himself to his feet.

“Sammy,” Dean says, a note of anger creeping into his voice. “You’re not thinking straight. Let the man heal you.”

“Sam, please. Let me help.”

Together, Dean’s irritated worry and Cas’ soft words are almost enough to persuade him, but Sam stubbornly shakes his head. He’s not even sure he understands it himself. But somehow, unless he can get out of here on his own terms, he’ll never accept it as real. “I’m walking out of here on my own strength.”

He’s on his feet. His right foot is throbbing, his left thigh is aching, and he’s wobbly and uncertain, but he’s upright, and he’s going to walk out of here. Beside him, Dean straightens up, and pulls Sam’s arm over his shoulder without another word. Together, they limp towards the exit. Cas hovers uncertainly behind them, and somewhere behind him is a figure that Sam can’t really think about right now. One miracle at the time. He looks up at the wooden staircase.

Twelve steps. Twelve steps to freedom.

It takes an agonizingly long time to climb the stairs, but they are steps he can remember. He won’t doubt his escape this time, because he’s felt the wood underneath his unbandaged foot, seen the concerned look on Dean’s face, heard his own labored breathing. This is real. He’s getting out, and this is real.

They reach the top just as the sun goes down. When he sees the Impala gleaming in the reddish light, he knows he’s made it.

“Cas? If you don’t mind, I think I’m ready to be healed now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finally decided to move this from Tumblr to the Archive. Thanks for all the notes there reminding me to make this more widely available.


End file.
